The Lady and the Dwarf (working title)
by CallMeRavenKing
Summary: Set 34 years after the Battle of the Five Armies. Both Erebor and Dale are finally becoming prosperous in the wake of Smaug. Dain is king of Erebor and Bain had just become king of Dale. But factions are plotting against Dain's rule and Bain is having trouble being the king Dale needs. Join Thorin III and Reida as they try to save both their cities. (Horrible summary)
1. Chapter 1 (Reida)

**So this story is a collab with my sister, ShadowHawk. She writes the Redia chapters and I write the Thorin chapters. We will try to update as often as we can (hopefully at least once every other day).**

**We have tried to make this as cannon complaint as possible, but we have also taken some liberties. Such as the Ladies of Laketown, a group of warrior women who were founded during the Battle of the Five Armies. **

**REIDA**

Reida always looked forward to the end of the week. Specifically the last day of the week. The end of the day and the last meal before evening. Supper. It was on this day and at this meal which her sister, Nin, cooked a fine big dinner and had her family pay a visit. And Nin was an excellent cook.

Reida didn't know when exactly the tradition had started, but she wasn't disappointed that it had. She purposely left work early to make it to her sister and brother-in-law's to make dinner on time. Although not too early. Reida had found that if she came early, there would be chores to finish before the meal. But it wasn't because Reida disliked chores, on the contrary, she quite enjoyed them. No, it was because she had figured out she was a nuisance in the kitchen.

The first five times she had broken Nin's delicate porcelain, the next four, she had failed to watch the stove correctly and made the tarts burn into lumps of gooey blackness. Finally, Nin had politely asked her not to come early anymore. Reida knew how to cook, but her talents were at their best when dealing with a slab of venison or skinned hare over an open fire.

The smell of all the evening meals of Dale wafted out of the houses as Reida hurried passed through the streets. She was dressed in a simple outfit of a cotton shirt, breeches, a cloak and solid leather boots. There was a long dagger sheathed at her side, a weapon she was rarely without, and her brown hair was knotted tightly in a mess of leather and braids. She was dressed as a man, but not uncommonly so. Reida had discovered early that the work of slaying Orcs in the highlands was best done in breeches. Also, being The First of the Ladies of Lake Town gave her leeway from the 'traditional' sense in how she chose to dress.

Nin's house was third from the corner of Bard's Way and the healer's street, and Reida was not surprised to find that the best smells seemed to come from her sister's house. The aroma physically blasted her in the face as she opened the sturdy oak door. The interior of the house had the mad hustle and bustle of one which was expecting company. Nin's two children, two of Reida's nieces and nephews were more or less trying to set the table in the front room while poking and pinching each other, and squealing, making the din much louder then it needed to be.

The girl, Lilia, stopped tormenting her brother when she saw Reida come step across the threshold of the home and remove her cloak.

"Aunty Rei! Mum, Aunt Reida is here," the seven-year-old called to where her mother was unseen in the kitchen. Lilia rushed over and reached her arms around her Aunt's waist in a hug that included her having a handful of forks.

"Hello Aunty Rei!" The second of the two, Haforth shouted loudly and also ran over, determined not to be outdone in hugs by his sister.

Reida gave them one of her rare amused grins. "Well hello, you two. But where did all this enthusiasm come from? It hasn't been that long since I've seen you last."

"It's been two weeks! That's a long time, Aunty Rei," Lilia said stubbornly.

"And a long time when you are only seven," a man, who bore resemblance to Reida, came from beyond the doors of the kitchen, grinning. "Hello, sister."

"Good evening, little brother," Reida gave him a warm half-smile, the equivalent for her of someone rushing to embrace a well-thought-of sibling. "Is serving in the court of the King still to your liking?"

Haidrian rolled his eyes, grinning. "Not everyone is as socially awkward as yourself, my dear sister. But to answer your question: yes. Being Keeper of the Seals is still appealing to my general liking."

"Aunt Reida hunts Orc, though, Uncle," Haforth exclaimed in his very loud, young voice. "She fights in battles."

Haidrian ruffled his nephew's hair good-naturedly. "There are many different types of battle grounds, Haforth. And rarely is anyone one person gifted in them all."

"I want to be like Aunty Rei when I grow up!" Lilia said, proudly looking up at her Aunt.

"Me too! I want to fight in wars with swords and spears!" Haforth took a fork from his sister's hand and swished it around as though wielding a large broadsword.

"Me too!" Lilia joined in her brother's charade, but ended up dropping the rest of the forks on the floor.

"What is going on out here?" Came the stern voice of Nin, before the rest of her came from the kitchen, wiping her wet hands on a rag.

"The children were merely demonstrating to us their chosen occupations, Nin," Haidran said simply.

"Slaying Orcs with forks," Reida put in with her most cheerful voice. Anyone who first saw her would say that Reida had a tendency to seem cross all the time, but outward appearances were often false. But since Reida didn't make it her practice to smile all the time, her usual expressions were dour ones. The plus side was that when she was genuinely happy, it showed.

Nin huffed at her two youngest children. "Well the Orcs will have to wait for another day, we need those fork around the table. Quickly! Go!" Nin turned to Reida and Haidrian, her irritable expression immediately softened and she moved to embrace her sister. "Reida! How are you? How was your trip?"

"As good as could be expected. We all made it back." Reida was aware of how gloomy her words sounded as soon as she had said them and hastily tried to turn it around. "There was hardly any trouble at all."

This was mostly true. Mostly. If tracking a band of Orcs that had added three days onto their journey didn't count as trouble.

"Excellent!" Nin said warmly. "We are glad you have returned safely. Now I must see to the quail, excuse me."

The two siblings watched Nin disappear through the kitchen door.

"You would never have guessed that the three of us grew up together," Haidrian shook his head and moved over the small sitting space, complete with a couple of mismatched, but comfortable chairs. He took one and Reida sat opposite him.

"I do believe it comes with being a hostess and a house wife."

Haidrian looked side-ways at his sister. "An occupation you never hope to achieve…?"

Now it was Reida's turn to roll her eyes. "The question of years passed. You already know the answer to that one, little brother."

Haidrian held up is hands in defense. "Just checking, just checking. You never know what could get into someone's head when they have travel the highlands."

Reida snorted. "I would rather it be the blade of an Orcish champion then whimsical desires of becoming enslaved to a house filled with… young ones."

The squeals of their niece and nephew were once again filling the house.

"Children aren't all bad," Haidrian said with a laugh. "They are a gift. One that will greatly benefit you when you are old and senile."

"I hope to die before that day comes," Reida replied in a dour voice. "Being old has very few advantages for me."

As though on cue, the front door opened and through it stepped the grandfather of Lilia and Haforth, the man who was also the father of Reida, Haidrian and Nin. Following him were Haidrian's wife and three children, the youngest of whom was eleven.

Greetings and hugs were given out, all of which Reida took with a certain amount of restricted gusto. It was easier to feel at ease with people she knew, and these people were her family.

"A successful week for my eldest daughter?" Draer, son of Dran, asked proudly, his voice whistling through the many gaps in his teeth.

"As well as could be expected, father," Reida beamed at the wizened old man, and gave him the customary hug of a dutiful daughter.

"I'm sure you have a tale or two to tell, would you-" But then he was interrupted by Nin announcing that dinner was ready. "Ah. After the meal, then."

The family squeezed in around the table. Steaming dishes of roasted quail, potato soup and freshly baked bread looked just as squeezed among the many plates and forks sitting before each person.

There was Haidrian's family, totaling five in all. Draer, the grandfather. Nin's two youngest as well as her eldest, a quiet girl whose name was Amra. Nin's husband, Hildan, who was a part of the watch, had hurried through the door at the last minute and had taken his spot at the head of the table.

Then there was Mikali, her two children, and Leea, Reida's cousin and aunt, the former of whom was under Reida's command as a member of the Ladies of Lake Town. Mikali also had a brother who was a solider in the King's Own, and who rarely seemed to have time to make it to the weekly family gathering.

And finally, Reida herself.

They were a merry bunch. Full of family honour and respect for each other, and Reida was glad to be associated with these folk.

They were only half way through the meal when a heavy knocking came from the door. The sound hardly took away from the conversation, but Nin, being the good hostess, got up from her place and went to the door. Reida watched her and as her sister opened the door, she could see the distinguishing colours of a high-ranking messenger in the King's Own. For half a second, Reida thought it was Mikali's brother, but then recognized it to be someone else; a younger man called Alsath who often carried messages for the King.

Reida stood as Alsath just convinced Nin to let him enter the house.

"First Reida," Alsath said smartly as she approached. "I bear a message from General Corthath. You are to report to him immediately."

Reida regarded him and crossed her arms. "I just saw the General today. Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

Alsath shook his head meekly. "General Corthath was most insistent."

The First of the Ladies frowned as she thought of what the General could want, but Alsath apparently thought she was frowning at him.

"I-I'm only bringing the message, First. I-I'll take my leave now." He turned to leave and it wasn't until he was far out the door that Reida remembered to thank him for bringing her the message, but it was too late, he was already gone.

Reaching for her cloak where she had hung it on the hook by the door, Reida pulled it over her shoulders and clasped it around her shoulders.

"You must leave now?" Nin asked disappointedly. "I made your favourite for desert…"

"Apparently, the General thinks he can summon me like some lowly officer," Reida growled sourly. "I'll try to make it back, Nin, but I have no idea what General Corthath wants." She turned and stepped out the door.

"Right…" Nin said holding the door open and watching her. "I'll keep the kettle on."

Reida nodded to her sister in thanks and turned away from the warm house, delicious food, and pleasant company into the darkening evening and narrow streets of Dale.

**Thanks for reading. Reviews are like lembas, but unfortunately I am like a hobbit. **


	2. Chapter 2 (Thorin)

**Chapter two! I thought it would be a good idea to get two chapters down right away so that you all can read a Reida one and a Thorin one.**

**THORIN**

Thorin Stonehelm, heir apparent of Erebor, sighed as he covered his head with his hood. It was times like this where he dearly missed living in the Iron Hills. There, at least, people treated him no different than any other lord's son. There he had never had to worry about what his actions might reflect on his father and kingdom. People expected him to drink and be merry as any young dwarf was wont. Here…. here he had not only a vast number of his own people but also men and elves watching his every move. Determined to sneer and look down on him at any sort of ill-mannered romp.

This is why he was fortunate to have received the key. His namesake, Thorin Oakensheild's, key. The one that was used to reclaim Erebor from the Dragon, Smaug, nearly thirty-four years ago. Having the key meant he could come and go from the mountain as he wished, provided that he lose his guard, of course. So far, no one was the wiser.

The streets of Dale were large and nearly empty, people seemingly having better things to do than wander at night. Light shone from cracks in shuttered windows and Thorin turned his face away, paranoid that someone might see him and recognize him. His face was nearly an exact replica of Thorin Oakenshield, or so he'd been told, and his eyes were the deep blue of the Durin line. Turning a corner, he found himself face to face with his chosen haunt.

The Raven's Roost was a dismal building in the not so nice part of town. Evidence of the Dragon's wrath still showed in the charred walls and broken stone. Still, it was a place where he could get a decent drink without being recognized.

Pushing the door open, he squinted at the sudden glare of firelight. It glinted tellingly off his auburn beard and hair that were braided with the tell tale beads of the heir of Durin. He knew his beard was far too short for the likes of most dwarves but he preferred it that way. His moustache was braided at the corners of his mouth and the hair on his chin was braided so it just reached the top of his chest. It suited his lifestyle so he did not see any reason to change it.

"There ye are, Bran," the inkeeper, a shallow man named Gaul, called out, "I was beginning to think we'd nae be seeing ye this week."

"And miss out on all this fine ale?" he joked back, placing some coins on the counter, "the usual."

"Aye," the innkeeper grabbed a mug of dubious cleanliness and filled it from a tap behind the bar, "here ye be."

Thorin took the mug with a nod and retreated to the back corner of the pub. Only to find that someone was sitting inhis customary chair.

"Greetings, friend dwarf," the man smiled at him from where he sat, "care to join me?"

Inclining his head, Thorin took the proffered seat and took at long swig from his tankard.

"I must say," the man continued, "I was not expecting to see a dwarf here. I would have thought they would have all been in Erebor by now."

Thorin gave a noncommittal grunt, now regretting his choice of sitting with the human. He should have just found another seat. But there was no way he could leave now without gaining unwanted attention.

"Come, friend," the man said jovially, "you are indoors now, remove your cloak like a civilized being."

Before Thorin could even blink, he found himself divested of his hood and cloak, his all too recognizable hair and beard glinted red in the firelight. A gasp went up from one of the tables and he could hear people start whispering.

He growled at the man and reached for his weapons when he saw the glint in his eyes.

"You knew who I was," he rasped lowly.

"Oh come now," the man scoffed just as quietly, "did you really think it was that hard for us to figure out what you were doing every week?"

At the word 'us' Thorin's eyes darted around the room and took in the unusual amount of armed men in the room. All of whom, he noticed now, were focused on him.

"What is it you want?" he growled.

"Oh nothing much," the man waved his hand, "just your beard to take back to the one who hired us as proof we killed you."

Thorin growled again and grasped his sword and axe tightly, readying himself to draw.

"Here now," Gaul broke in, "I'll have none 'o that in here or I'll have the guards on you, see if I don't."

"Another time then, master dwarf," the man rose to his feet and bowed mockingly.

This was obviously a signal to the rest of the men as they all picked themselves up and clomped out the door.

Thorin sighed and ran a hand through his hair after they had left. He knew they were waiting for when he left the tavern. Knowing that he couldn't stay cooped up forever. For the first time, Thorin wished he had his guards with him. At least they would mean a sure victory against his assailant. As it was, he had no guarantee that he could prevail against twenty heavily armed men. Sighing, he drained his mug and placed it on the table with a bang.

"My thanks, master Gaul," he said as he rose to his feet, "however, I fear I shall no longer be able to give you patronage. Do you have a back door by any chance?"

Gaul wordlessly pointed behind him, past the bar, too stunned at the presence of royalty to talk.

"My thanks again," Thorin inclined his head as he unsheathed his weapons "you may keep the cloak."

With that, he set off at a run for the back door. He knew that there was little chance it was un-guarded, but he hoped a running dwarf would at least make them pause for long enough to let him dispatch a few of them.

With a roar, he collided with the door, feeling it splinter under the force of his run and the strength of his name, Stonehelm.

The ring of metal against metal sang in his ears and he grinned, glad that he had thought to ready his weapons. Spinning around, he kept his back against the wall as he faced his assailants, grinning manically.

"You picked the wrong dwarf, my friends," he commented lightly as he then launched himself at the nearest of his attackers, sword swinging in a deadly arc.

The man was a bit slow on the uptake and Thorin's sword caught him in his ribs. He screamed and then choked as blood bubbled into his mouth from his smashed lung.

Leaving the injured man, Thorin turned to the other three.

"Who's next?"


	3. Chapter 3 (Reida)

**Shamâkh. **

**Wow! Third chapter already! We're just racing along! **

The dark of night came swiftly in Dale. The shadows swelled here before they did on the highlands. But mostly because of the great looming mountain that cast its shadow over the town when the sun set. The mountain, Erebor. The great dwarf city.

But Reida was not thinking of the cavernous halls of the dwarves lords, or the lonely mountain that stretched high above Dale. No, she was wondering why the King's General would call for her this late in the evening.

Why indeed. She had been summoned to the Court more frequently as of late and it was really starting to irk her. She was certainly not some trained housemaid to come running whenever his _lordship_ desired. And, as though to drive the nail in further, these summons rarely amounted to anything of importance. Mostly, Reida would just stand there and listen while the men of the court rambled on and on...

_Report immediately_ - her arse. It was like the General was trying to annoy her on purpose.

This sudden realization made her pause. Was he trying to- but a loud roar and the sound of splintering wood from near by caught her thoughts off guard. The rest of her, however, was immediately and instinctively at the ready.

What in the name of the dragon's arrow was going on?!

Reida moved, cursing in a very unlady-like way and following the sounds of battle roaring and metal clashing against metal. Whatever was happening didn't sound like your average drinking disagreement.

The night watch would probably come, but Reida felt like she was closer to this fight, and it might even give her an excuse for being late to the General's call, or not turning up at all.

The sound of weapons paused and someone was yelled, but too indistinctly for her to make out their words. Reida loosened her long dagger in its sheath, holding the hilt in a rear handed grip, ready to pull it out in a moment's notice.

More shouting and the metal clashing started up again. Reida rounded the corner and recognized the shabby, yet popular tavern, Raven's Roost. A tavern. That made sense. A tavern and fighting often came hand in hand, but that didn't mean it was encouraged.

The First wasted no time in rounding to the rear side of the tavern where the fight was most definitely happening. She sprinted down the alleyway beside the Raven's Roost and immediately jumped back as a rather tall man came barreling backwards into her. The man tripped as Reida leapt back and tangled over himself with a hoarse cry. What followed him was a short fury of red hair and steel.

"DU BEKAR!" a dwarf shouted a battle cry as he swung his axe above his head.

Reida didn't know what was going on, but she didn't want anyone to die until she had found out. "OI! SHAMÂKH!" She roared, using the full extent of her knowledge of the dwarven language, Khuzdul. The phrase roughly translated to "good evening", and Reida thought mildly that she should probably get around to learning some more of the dwarf-speech.

The red-haired dwarf seemed to notice her for the first time when she yelled at him and looked like he tried to stop the deadly swinging arc of his ax, but the momentum was already there. The man beneath the blow only had the time and the space to move his vital organs away from the ax head before the metal bit easily into his upper thigh. His scream of pain echoed in her ears and Reida just had time to catch a glimpse of someone bolt around the other side of the tavern.

"STOP!" She yelled at the fleeing figure, but the dwarf and the wounded man were still here. She couldn't just leave this. Where was the bloody watch?!

The tall man's whimpering brought her attention back to him and Reida glared down at him. "Just what in the name of Eru is going on here?!" She demanded of tall man and the heavy-breathing dwarf, who had taken the liberty of removing his ax from the man's leg.

Before either of them could reply, two of the night watchmen came up the alley from the street.

"First? What's going on here?" Asked the lead watchman to Reida, his sword drawn and at the ready.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out, nitwit. There was a third member. They just took off down Riggt Street. I want him apprehended and brought back." It wasn't really her job to see to the petty street brawls of the town, but Reida had a hunch there was more to this then she had first thought.

"Of course, First," the lead watchman said. He and his companion took off and headed back down the street.

The red-haired dwarf was staring at her with piercing eyes, his features were lost in the shadows of the alleyway, when Reida turned back to him. Only his vibrant red hair caught what light was escaping from the cracks in the tavern.

"Now, master dwarf, I expect that you will give me your full cooper-"

The tall man interrupted her with another whimpering cry, and Reida guessed that the pain was starting to take hold.

"M'ah leg's fall'n off!"

Reida looked down at him impatiently. "And I expect that you will never walk properly again, thanks to your friend here. Use your cloak to staunch the blood flow."

It wasn't that she couldn't help the man, she could've, but Reida wasn't sure who was the villain was, and she didn't want to turn away from the dwarf, who still had both his sword and his ax drawn.

"I don't suppose you'd believe me if I told you that they were the ones who started all this, lass?" the dwarf asked suddenly, sheathing his sword so that he could clean the blood off his ax properly.

Reida gave him her most neutral expression, which for anyone else would be an extremely cold, flat look. "I make it my practice, dwarf, to not assume anything until I have near all the facts," she replied with less joy then a brick wall. "And I except to have your full cooperation until I discover those facts."

The dwarf huffed and returned his axe to his belt.

One of the night watchmen returned with the report that they had been unable to find any sign of the third member of the incident, but the second watchman was still searching. Nodding in affirmation, Reida turned back to the dwarf.

"To the barracks. I want you to answer some questions."

For a second it looked as though the red-haired dwarf was going to refuse, but then he simply shrugged, folded his arms and turned to the entrance of the alleyway.

Reida had half a mind to command he give up his weapons, but the way he so smoothly and easily handled them told Reida that she would not get positive results from such a command.

Besides, as long as he was the victim, as he said, then there was nothing for him to worry about. Also, she would walk behind with her dagger loosened, just in case.

They left the watchman with the wounded perpetrator, with the instructions to bring him to the barracks as well when he could.

Reida was only slightly surprised at how little she had to shorten her stride to walk behind the dwarf. He kept his hands away from his weapons, she noted as she watched him. No more aggravation on his part would only serve to prove his innocence. The First also noticed that he seemed agitated. He kept glancing around the streets as they hurried to the barracks; as though expecting some attack.

Even though she knew that this part of Dale was certainly rougher then the rest, it hardly seemed that this dwarf, so at ease with his weapons, would worry about some petty thief or bandit. No. There was something else about this dwarf. And she would figure it out.

As they walked passed a building with a rambunctious sounding crowd inside, and light spilt from the open widows, that Reida had some inkling of what was bothering this red-haired dwarf. The dwarf turned to the house and the light lit up his face. Reida peered at him, his features burned into the back of her mind. She had seen this dwarf before… Thirty-four years ago. He had come to Lake Town when she was barely above her father's knee, speaking of how the dragon lay dead in the mountain and how he would brining out the gold and riches for all of them. Only the dragon had not been dead…

Then she blinked. No. This wasn't that dwarf. That dwarf had been killed in battle. All of Dale knew how Thorin Oakensheild had helped save their city by slaying the Pale Orc, and only after doing so did he succumb to his great wounds.

That dwarf was dead.

And he had certain not had the vivid red hair that this one had.

Reida paused again, a thought suddenly dawning on her.

Red hair like the King Under the Mountain…

"What is your name, master dwarf?"

**Thanks for reading! Please Review!**

**RavenKing**


	4. Chapter 4 (Thorin)

**I'm so sorry that this took so long to update... I have no excuse. I hope you'll forgive me.**

**(And here's the disclaimer I forgot to do on chapter one - I don't own the Hobbit or any works by J.R.R. Tolkien and I'm not making any money from writing this.) **

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><p>Thorin glanced sharply back at the human woman. The guards had called her "First", that could only mean that she was someone of importance. Women of importance tended to hang on him once they knew who he was. And the last thing he needed was attention. Especially here.<p>

"Helm," he said, silently daring her to question him.

The human woman peered at him suspiciously. He knew that she knew that he was withholding that certain piece of information from her purposely. But she didn't push it.

"Well then, shall we be going?" he asked.

The First scowled, but began walking again, still staying a pace or two behind him. Suddenly Thorin stiffened and reached for his weapons. He knew that the men from the tavern had been following him but he was hoping that having a human woman with him would keep them from attacking.

Obviously not.

"Stay behind me, lass," he ordered as five men emerged from the shadows.

"What is going on, dwarf!?" The First snapped at him, a long dagger suddenly appearing in her hand. "And I do not need your protection."

"Aye..." he admitted hesitantly, eyeing the dagger, "but I would nae see ye be killed in a quarrel that ye have no part in."

"Knowing what is going on would also be helpful. The dealings that happen here are my business," she stepped forward, as though purposely ignoring his previous suggestion. "This is my town." There was a strange dangerous edge to her voice, though she directed the words more towards the men surrounding them, then to Thorin. Or so he would've liked to assume.

Whatever else she was going to say was cut off as the men charged them all at the same time. Thorin ducked and swung the back of his axe at one of the men's rib cage. There was the sharp crack as several of his ribs broke. His attacker collapsed with a cry of pain that echoed through the empty streets but Thorin was already moving on to the next assailant.

"I want answers, dwarf!" the First shouted at him from somewhere on his left. "Do. Not. Kill them."

"Allâkhu tatrûna," he grumbled as he dodged a sweeping blow from his target and smashed the closest knee.

Soon, all the attackers were either unconscious or wishing they were. Thorin approached the First whose breathing was only slightly laboured. The dwarf watched as the long dagger disappeared inside the woman's dark cloak once more.

"Yer not bad," he grunted, "still, I could've handled it."

The First snorted and squatted down to look one of the men in the face. "Friends of yours?"

Thorin shrugged, "Hardly. Still it's nice to finally get them out of the way. These buggers've been following us since the tavern."

She stared back at him suspiciously. Thorin noticed randomly that with her down at this level, they were almost eye to eye.

"And you knew they were following."

It didn't sound like a question, but Thorin wasn't too sure what she was trying to get at, so he just nodded. "Aye," he began to clean his weapons again, "though I was lookin' fer them an' you weren't. So don't feel too bad."

The woman stood abruptly, turning away from him, and nudged one of the attackers none too gently in the ribs with the toe of her boot.

"The question is, why? Why did you follow? Who do you work for!?" The brisk commanding tone in her voice caused Thorin to look at the First, puzzled. This woman certainly did not act like human females he knew were supposed to act.

The injured man groaned and didn't answer the questions. The First began to ask another, but was interrupted by four members of the guard who chose that moment to come barreling around the corner.

"First! My lady!" one of them shouted, "are you hurt?"

"Don't call me that," she waved them all off impatiently, "Get these men to the infirmary but under heavy guard. The lot of them are under arrest. I have questions, and I'm sure Captain Tran will have a few as well."

"Aye, my lady," the guards saluted and began to inspect the victims of Thorin and the woman's fighting prowess.

"I said don't call me that! You-," she said, rounding on Thorin, "you're going to explain what's going on. Why did these men attack you... _Helm_."

"Not here," Thorin sheathed his weapons.

"And why not?"

Thorin sighed, "just... It's not a good idea. Trust me."

"Trust you?" she scoffed, "I don't even know you."

"Aye. But that's the way it is. And you'll find I can be a right stubborn bugger if I need to be. I got it from my Da."

The First muttered something incoherent to his ears, and then growled darkly, "Let's get going then."

She was angry with him. He could tell from the burning look in her eye and the rigidness of her posture but he didn't really care. There was no way her anger was any worse than his father's.

"Lead on," he grumbled as they began to make their way up the street.

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><p><strong>The next chapter should be up in two days! (If all goes according to plan...) See you then!<strong>

**RavenKing**


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